


Domestic

by EvoFTG



Series: The Lord and The Consort [5]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Arceus, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Married Life, Other, Pokephilia, Romantic Fluff, Sort Of, it's literally in the title
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26393446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvoFTG/pseuds/EvoFTG
Summary: Sometimes, it's the little moments that makes life a delight.
Relationships: Arceus/Satoshi | Ash Ketchum, Ash Ketchum/Arceus, Satoshi | Ash Ketchum/Aruseusu | Arceus
Series: The Lord and The Consort [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/965064
Comments: 17
Kudos: 37





	1. Afternoon Nap

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an excuse to write tooth-rotting fluff of my favourite, but very rare, pairing. Interconnected with the other Aurumshipping fanfic Revisit as this is set after the ending of it and offers pictures into Ash's and Arceus' lives as a couple. 
> 
> Originally posted on FFN although derp author forgot to post here too.

Sleeping is not something unusual, per se, but Ash is surprised to find Arceus’ form laid on the fluffy layers of hay that they accidentally discovered to be excellent bedding for the Legendary Pokémon when they renovated the barnhouse he has bought for their use. 

It takes a few seconds why he finds it odd: In all the months since he was made a consort to the Original One, he’s never seen Arceus sleeps. Ever. 

There have been a few moments of quiet when Ash thought Arceus has dozed off, only to be proven otherwise. Rest for the Legendary Pokémon consists of meditations wherein it remains aware of its surroundings, including of Ash’s puzzled staring and poking into its sides. It’s also why Ash is reluctant to believe that Arceus may truly be sleeping right now until he approaches the slumped figure, the white sheen of its pelt a stark contrast to the hays and chaffs it lies upon. The sides rise and fall in calm breaths. There is no greeting offered to him, which usually comes as soon as his touch pulls it out of its meditation. He can even hear snores – quite unlike those he heard from Brock or Cilan or most of his Pokémon, because there are hints of growls in its breathiness. 

_“Pika-chu?”_

“I don’t know.” 

It’s oddly fascinating to watch. He’s used to Arceus standing proud and tall, and Arceus who lays primly beside him while it nuzzles him. _This_ Arceus looks carefree and totally relaxed, with its limbs sprawled and its neck stretched out. Unlike its many times being together with him, the massive golden wheel remains as it is instead of temporarily absorbed into its being; it encircles its hindquarter although with the thick hay acting as Arceus’ bedding, the spokes push into its fluffy thickness rather than pressed uncomfortably into the hard wood-planked floor. Ash is tempted to join it, maybe tuck himself in that crook of its body just behind its fore-limb, but that may be enough to rouse Arceus. Just the simple fact that Arceus is sleeping now when he’s never seen it does this before says that this is a rest long overdue. 

He scratches Pikachu’s head absent-mindedly, the familiarity in the gesture helping him to think. What’s a good etiquette when you find yourself a sleeping Legendary Pokémon? Most of them go hide themselves somewhere safe and secluded, so is it something scandalous to be found? Or is it just a precaution in general? 

And what if the Legendary Pokémon in question is his spouse? 

“I think maybe we should… leave? Let Arceus rest first and –” 

Pikachu tugs at his collar and frowns. Since Ash fails to realize his friend’s point, Pikachu scampers down to hang on his hips (Ash has to stifle a yell as his jeans is almost dragged down from the Pokémon’s weight) and pulls out from his pocket an emerald-encrusted brooch shaped like the wheel around Arceus’ abdomen. 

Right. Because if Arceus doesn’t want to be found, it would have chosen to plop down in its Hall of Origin instead of here. 

Ash shouldn’t have doubted it, not with the brooch as a solid proof of Arceus’ welcome to his presence. It is a mean by which Arceus announces its presence on Earth, and that Ash is free to come to it – an arrangement devised by the Pokémon itself long before they started entertaining possibilities of romance between them. It lasts only so long as Arceus is on Earth and disintegrates with its departure, which is why Ash has come here as soon as he sees the jewellery sparkling on his study desk. 

Of course, Ash didn’t expect to see Arceus sleeping, of all things. Clearly, the sight laid in front of him proves how wrong he was… and also reassures him that there’s nothing wrong to stay by its side if Arceus can afford to lay back here, of all places. 

However, before he can make himself comfortable (he’s not kidding, Arceus is warm, fuzzy and is generally a good thing to snuggle with) the Legend begins to stir. 

An awakening Arceus is something he has never experienced before. It’s difficult to describe the _sensation_ in that moment despite the usual procedure of stretching, yawning, and bleary blinking as newly-opened eyes adjust into focus. The closest analogy Ash’s mind can do is of someone turning on the kitchen stove; there is the initial, sudden burst before quickly calming down to a ring of steady-burning little flames. Maybe if Ash is a little more poetic-minded, he can come up with better descriptions to the feeling of Arceus’ vast consciousness rousing from its slumber, but it is what it is. Ash has gotten past most of his instinctive fear of the rows of sharp teeth that are involuntarily put on display when Arceus yawns – those teeth have touched his skin before, never hurting, just enough to send pinpricks of shiver through his spine before its tongue comes to soothe. He comes to appreciate it as a spectacle as Arceus does not exhibit the existence of its physical mouth easily, aside for him. The light of Arceus’ eyes brighten to its usual glow as the previously lidded eyes open all the way, revealing red pupils and green where in humans should have been white. 

_-Oh,_ Arceus says, its mental voice entering his mind as easily as it does the moment it finds Ash standing nearby, _-Forgive me; I must have drifted off._

Arceus’ voice also lacks the tell-tale rasps that usually accompanies sentences like _Five more minutes_ or _I’m up, I’m up._ Which kind of makes sense when he thinks about it, since telepathic speech doesn’t involve priming its physical voice-box to do the talking. 

He shuffles up to the nearest shoulder and rests his hand on the protruding spike. Hard bone meets his fingertips but the warmth radiating from the Original One is as comforting as he remembers it. Smiling up at the face faithfully waiting for his reply, Ash says, “It’s alright. I was just surprised to see you sleeping.” 

Then, without understanding where it has been hiding all this time, a freshly-sprung concern makes him say, “Are you okay?” faster than his mind can decide whether it’s a good idea or not. 

Ash realizes what has triggered the inquiry as soon as it leaves his mouth. For someone who used to be missing a portion of its very life-force and was still completely up to beating Dialga, Palkia and Giratina into submission at the same time, it’s jarring to see that same person showing any sort of weakness. It doesn’t sit well with Ash when the last extended rest forced upon Arceus was for its recovery from the wounds sustained from Marcus’ treachery. 

The wriggling, coiling fear in his stomach is immediately soothed by the careful nuzzles of its gold-tipped forehead to his chest. 

_-I am fine, dear one – only a little tired._

Soothed, but not entirely reassured. ‘Tired’ is better than ‘wounded’ but he rather sees Arceus as it usually does – proud, a little intimidating, but entirely affectionate when no one is looking. 

“Arceus… what happened to you?” 

Arceus’ ears perk curiously towards him but says nothing. Ash realizes that this is yet another question that he _should_ have filtered out – he doesn’t want to sound like a mother hen but his anxiety got the better of him. Arceus is not a damned damsel in distress, not with the commands of all the Type Plates at its whims and the many ways it can make its prospecting attackers sorely regret their decision to bother the Original One. 

When does worry turns to paranoia? When it comes to Legendary Pokémon, is there such thing as not caring enough, or too much? 

Nevertheless, Arceus is his wife/husband/mate. Ash is not going to feel sorry for his right to be concerned about his significant other. 

His expression must be telling, because Arceus unfurls a golden aura to form a slim tendril from its flank-wheel and wraps it around Ash’s waist and chest in some sort of an embrace. It’s not unusual for him to be treated like this, although being yanked forward by the light-coils still come as a surprise that makes him gasp; a muffled _unf!_ escapes through clenched teeth as the hay softens his landing between the outstretched front limbs. 

_-I am not hurt if that is what worries you,_ it says, carefully nudging stray hair out of Ash’s eyes with the tip of its forehead, _-It is not something that a little rest cannot fix._

“Arceus, you know that’s not going to –” 

Now, Arceus always has one method or another to interrupt him, especially when he inevitably slips into a long rant without noticing for whatever reasons, but _this_ one totally comes out the blue. 

Arceus is _kissing_ him. 

Without warning, the dark grey face is lowered and pushed beyond his personal space. His words are stopped short by a gasp, then the gasp is muffled by the coarse fur making up its grey face; a concave surface that hides its mouth is pressed against his lips and a small portion of his cheeks. He can feel the vibrations of a soft rumble on the hide in contact with his skin, but despite the trembling from the large Pokémon, its mouth remains closed. This is mildly puzzling to Ash, knowing how fond Arceus is of using its tongue, _especially_ in a kiss, but he surmises that this is perhaps an extension of its greeting albeit in a very shocking manner. 

Ash does the only thing that makes sense, places his hands on either side of its face and holds on. It’s the sort of kiss that is long, relaxed, heartfelt without being lustful – it is simply Arceus seeking comfort in its mate and Ash happily gives it all to the Legend until it pulls away with a happy sigh. 

Ash stares for a few moments at the Legendary Pokémon, who manages to look _adorably_ sheepish at the spontaneity. “…Wow,” he manages finally, of all things which could be said. 

_-I am truly glad that you are here, Ash. I hope I am not interrupting anything important._

“You didn’t. I was wondering when you’re going to come anyway.” He reaches out a hand to smooth the hairs his previous grasps have accidentally crinkled. In a few strokes, the fur is again aligned as to seem like a smooth surface if seen from some distance away. 

Pikachu, who has leaped off Ash’s shoulders just in time to avoid being dragged down alongside him, now comes padding into the small area framed by Arceus’ legs where Ash is lying. The Pokémon chirps out a greeting to the Original One before proceeding to choose for himself a perch on one of Arceus’ shoulder-spikes. Ash has no idea what’s up with Pikachu and his preference for shoulders, but he’s not going to question something so trivial when he has other pressing matters in mind. 

For now, the pressing matter is, “Is there something I can do?” 

The abrupt burst of light around Arceus signals to him that the Alpha is undertaking a transformation. He’s not able to follow it through, being forced to close his eyes and shield them behind his hands for good measure as the brightness begins to make his head pounds strangely. Only when the warmth and light fade away does he risks a peek through his fingers and discovers what Arceus has done: Maintaining its appearance but with its body shrunken to a third its original size. There are still differences in their size, sure, but now it’s not as pronounced as before. Needless to say, it’s a development that Ash has nothing to object to, especially when he finds himself snuggled neatly into the curve of Arceus’ body like he absolutely belongs there. 

He _does_ belong there, as Arceus’ head swerves around to plant kisses all over his face, spelling out clearly what it wants. The tip of its tail plays with his feet and brushes his ankles; its breaths warm and heavy on his skin. No one would’ve attributed Arceus to being a touchy-feely lover – Hell, even Ash didn’t even think of Arceus as someone you’ll make a lover before its confession, but Arceus really is a tender partner. A warm and comfortable presence, just like Ash hopes to be to the Pokémon… 

“Alright, alright – I’m already here, Arceus,” he says, his giddy laughter coming out anyway despite his best efforts to appear dignified. He’s never one to be associated with _dignity_ anyway – more like _crash_ and _burn._ “What _else_ I can do?” 

Arceus hums, which either means it is genuinely thinking of an answer or it’s merely a distraction as it continues nuzzling against him. 

_-I miss you,_ it says seriously, the words coming out like a matter-of-fact statement rather than a heart’s confession, _-When I have finished with the… When I have finished my task, I thought of only coming to you. I did not plan further beyond waiting for your arrival. Perhaps you can provide suggestions as to our schedule?_

“You come here to _relax._ We can think of something to do later.” 

_-I AM relaxing,_ Arceus says with a tilted head as though to point out that its posture should be more than proof of its claim. _-I do not know what impression you have of me, but I am not so diminished that we ought to be subjected to a house arrest._

“Well, think of it this way: I’ve just walked all the way here, we can hang around for a while until I catch my breath.” 

He knows that he’s far from looking like someone who needs a breather – he’s hardly broken a sweat since he has the help of his Gogoat to help carry him along the journey – but it serves his purpose to win his argument. It doesn’t matter that Arceus too knows that it’s just an excuse to get it to relent. 

However, any attempt of looking disgruntled on Arceus’ part is offset by the deep-chested purring when Ash circles his thumb around the green spot on its face. 

“Come on, Arceus. Just let yourself lay back. It’s not a crime to take a day or two off.” 

Arceus’ agreement comes silently, in the shifting of its posture to curl itself better around Ash’s body and lays its head so as to direct his stroking hands to the stretch of its neck. _Of course_ nobody would have believed that this is the same Judgment-dispensing Arceus who once loomed over Michina town if it keeps acting not too differently than his Pikachu when in his more affectionate moods… 

Embarrassingly, being the unruly thing that it is, Ash’s stomach decides in that moment to disturb the peace with the universally infamous ballad of the hungry grumbling. He would’ve attempted to pass it off as some weird night animals’ mating calls and avoid Arceus’ accusatory glare, but being close as they are guarantees that all deceptions are out of the question. 

“No worries, Arceus,” he says instead as Arceus, without dislodging his massages, levels a one-eyed gaze questioningly at his recently musical stomach. “I’ve bought some food before I came down here. I can eat later.” 

_-Ah, yes,_ Arceus says, directing its attention on the brown paper bag slumped listlessly on the floor nearby. With a few quick sniffs, Arceus’ frown deepens critically; clearly disapproving of what passes for dinner, consisting of a now-soggy hamburger, a packet of fries and a can of soda which he ordered off the first fast food restaurant before starting off on his reunion journey. 

_-…You ask me to take care of myself, when you are borderline neglecting yours._

“Bit of an exaggeration there, don’t you think? And, hey, at least I won’t go hungry tonight.” 

Apparently, while food is not a concern at all for a Legendary Pokémon who is sustained by the ambient natural energies, Arceus is readily worried of his nutrition state – as though he’s vulnerable to starvation or food poisoning. 

In some way that Ash is not going to say out loud, the attention is… flattering. 

With another heavy sigh, Arceus thankfully chooses to let go of the matter and sinks back into the comforts of his touch. With the opportunities to hold the Original One so closely, Ash wouldn’t have minded missing more than just dinners when there are other people out there who would’ve given an arm and a leg (Cynthia easily comes to mind at this thought) for a glimpse of a Legendary Pokémon. 

_-One of these days, I really should acquaint myself with preparation of human food…_

Ash’s hand stalls in his stroking as his mind is flooded with the mental imagery of the kitchen of his apartment back where he actually lives when not spending his time with Arceus here, except with the addition of a certain Legendary Pokémon hurrying about _a la_ Delia when she’s behind schedule in preparing breakfast for the day. 

It’s absurd for sure… but the Ketchum knows better than to take lightly any word spoken by the Original One, even one spoken sleepily like it does just now. Arceus is already well-versed in many human activities, products of hundreds of years’ worth of observations and frequent visits of Earth, even learning to mingle inconspicuously among people. Ash has no doubt that if Arceus is putting its mind on it, it’s going to be able to surpass his cooking level in a day or two. 

Again, a flattering rather than disturbing thought, but that’s something to entertain for another day. 

“You’re a real sweetheart, Arceus,” he says, to which he receives a grunt of obviously faked annoyance, and continues to comb his fingers through the silky fur lazily. 

Arceus requests his closeness not with words, but Ash understands the tail curling around his waist just as perfectly. Happily, Ash Ketchum retreats into the crook of its neck, his hands continue to stroke whichever part of the Pokémon he can reach. Very soon, the red irises grow dim until the light fades completely, blending into the surrounding green; its contented rumble resonates in every breath even while soundly asleep. 

Ash is growing sleepy himself when he realizes a warm weight settling in his lap comfortably: His Pikachu, looking far too shrewd than any Pokémon has any right to be as if saying, _See? I told you shouldn’t have worried._

“Yeah, yeah – I know, I was wrong, you were right, all that stuffs.” 

Despite himself, Ash finds himself giggling at the Pokémon’s antics and surrenders to the charming black eyes that gaze up at him. Pikachu gives another delighted _“Pika-Pika!”_ and snuggles into the jacket comfortably. Ash hugs it with one arm while the other is kept on Arceus’ neck. 

“‘night, bud,” he says as the little creature gives a wide yawn before curling into itself, falling asleep as quickly as Arceus does, perhaps from its exhaustion after the day’s worth of Pokémon battling before they received Arceus’ tell-tale brooch – and then, he too, follows after the two Pokémon and falls asleep himself not a few minutes later, lured by the comfortable warmth and familiarity in their companionship.


	2. An 'Accident'

Ash Ketchum breathes in deeply, savouring the scent that teases his nostrils with the exotic warmth of spices and the fertile musk of Earth after the rain. Delightful, lively and so much more. He tries to touch the bared throat with his hands, only to find that he wants to kiss it instead. Already he has his shirt and jacket off although from his navel downwards he still has his clothing on… only, well, they have been compromised for ease of access. He would have liked them removed too but sometimes there are progresses that need rushing instead of going about it slowly and patiently. 

Above him, head tilted back for his attention, Arceus lets out a quivering moan as rough lips trail tentative kisses on the grey underside of its neck. Listening to the sinfully luscious noises makes Ash shudders too; it feels like ghostly fingertips are dancing on his skin and down his back. To outsiders, it may look like he has Arceus pinned into the corner of the room, but Ash knows better that it is more accurate to say that Arceus is deigning to play along. He always remembers that it is him who is under its mercy rather than what their positioning suggests. 

Still… 

It’s hard not to ravish the Legendary Pokémon in front of him. It’s downright _impossible._ So, being the impatient man that he is, Ash presses himself harder against Arceus, who is aligned along the wall and pushed flat against it. Arceus’ heart beats to a calmer rhythm than his, but it is still noticeably more urgent than ordinary. It comforts him to feel the evidence of Arceus’ arousal, rather than just him enjoying himself. He’s already being selfish enough as it is, asking this from the Original One… 

“Talk to me, Arceus,” he pleads breathily, kissing reverence along the twin rivulets that run down the grey portion of its throat. 

_-I… Ah, what do you wish to hear?_

Ash can’t help but huff out a helpless laughter. “Arceus, you can just recite the alphabets and I’ll still be all over you.” 

_-An exaggeration, surely._ Arceus pauses to allow itself a stray moan through gritted teeth, before its mental voice continues, _-I rather not attempt it just yet… I am not quite adept with verbal stimulation._

Ash _has_ to stop to bite his lip at the mental image that comes into his mind. Arceus’ nonverbal grunts and moans are already fraying him inside out; if there are real words being thrown in there, and knowing just how _descriptive_ Arceus can be… 

_“Fuck,”_ he moans into the bristles of fur, unaware of the curse that has gleefully escape him. By force of habits, he’s not someone prone to particularly strong curses – but of course, exceptions exist. 

For one, Arceus is unintentionally a bad influence to the hygiene of his speech. 

He hopes of being more of a gentleman about this, but really, he’s burning too hot to endure it on his own. Blatantly he searches for friction against one of Arceus’ fore-leg, earning him a surprised growl from his inhuman lover as his hardness makes itself known through the cotton fabric of his shorts. 

_-Ash, if you want – if you wish for me –_

But Ash is not hearing any of it; he’s too far gone, grinding frantically against the willing limb, his arms thrown around the neck to brace himself and pull them closer together. Arceus is saying something, harsh growls interspersed with broken words that do not mean anything to the Ketchum at the moment. However, he has enough awareness to stop himself and look up at the grey face above him, at the slightly parted jaws and the tip of a tongue darting out to lick its mouth, at the bright crimson glow of its irises… 

“Arceus, I’m… I’m not –? I mean, can I…?” 

He doesn’t have the strength or the composure to finish his sentence. Luckily, the rest of his unsaid question is nevertheless understandable to the Legendary Pokémon, who is doing its best with their limited options to reciprocate with the heavy licks on his neck and chest. 

_-It is alright, my dearest. For me now…_

There’s a brief explosion in front of his retinas, filling his vision with whiteness even behind his closed eyes. It’s an assurance, given like it has always been but his lust-fogged brain hears it like an order which he eagerly obeys. He feels the warmth uncoiling in his groin, rushing out of him after a few short, careless tugs – he can’t remember when he has starts touching himself, can’t even remember when he’s had his shorts pulled down to his knees in the first place. With his eyes scrunched shut and his teeth clenched tightly that his jaws hurt, Ash stifles his shouts into Arceus’ heaving chest, all the while its heart beats its frantic tune in his ears… 

  


* * * * *

  


When he comes to himself, Ash feels like he has missed an entire day in his… what, sleep? Coma? Sleeping coma? In the condition that he is in, Ash can’t remember the term although the phenomenon is not unknown to him – it happens once in a while, so as long as Ash is still breathing and all his limbs are intact, he’s not too worried. 

_-It has only been an hour or so since you fell asleep,_ Arceus informs him when he groggily asks of it. Its mental voice sounds overly composed in a way that Ash knows trying to mask its amusement; Ash can’t help but smile in return despite the throbbing in his skull. 

“That’s still a pretty strong one…” Not that he’s complaining. Anything having to do with being with Arceus is wholly welcomed and enjoyed, even something as simple as snuggling together on a rainy day with only a cup of hot chocolate and Arceus’ lilting voice telling of stories of its old life… 

When they have sex, more often than not it’s more like a bonus than an objective. 

Ash’s breaths come out in gentle curling wisps when the colder air embraces it. His body is warm, sweats beading his skins that makes him think it can’t be all that pleasant to be near to, but apparently Arceus has no problem with it. 

In fact, Arceus is positioning itself so as to maximize contact between its hide and his skin. And there are quite a lot of skin to be in contact with too with his upper body being exposed to the world and Arceus’ diligent tongue. And now, when they are all spent and done for, he feels like it is too much trouble to remove what clothing still remaining on his body – namely his half-downed shorts and his pants puddling around his feet. Sleeping after sex is normal for men everywhere, but the low-key headache is telling that he’s somehow overdoing it. 

If everyone else is concerned with preparing their orifices, Ash has to be mindful of their so-called Auras as well – Legendary Pokémon do not only ‘mate’ with physical bodies. 

Usually, it’s not a problem until Ash, like tonight, forgets himself and rushes into the act. It’s of no consequence to the Alpha but Ash is absolutely floored in the aftermath when Arceus is not given enough opportunities to regulate its Aural pressures. Arceus is adamant on delaying further continuation on their love-making, in fact on the verge of citing all the unpleasant possibilities of having his mortal body under overt Aural pressures before Ash himself concedes defeat. Very soon he sees the point of Arceus’ caution, seeing that he now lays as limp as a noodle and having only enough strength in his fingers to stroke the Legend’s head and neck. 

However, apparently Arceus is not quite done yet. There is not much touching at the start; it seems that the Legend is compensating for the lacking _afterwards,_ immediately curling its body around his and proceeding with the cuddles and licks, oh damn the licking, it has not stopped for more than a few seconds since Arceus has started, and only then so it can start anew at other places… 

All in all, he is in no position to complain. In fact, as he massages the Legend just under its head, he is no longer just content. He is _giddy_ by the fact that at this moment, the Alpha Legend is here, its focus singularly on him, devoting a slice of its vast reserves of time to his small figure. He feels, inexplicably, as though he is in control of – 

_No, no, no, that’s wrong,_ a voice, which has been content to lay low and let his physical body enjoy Arceus’ attention, exclaims. In terms of mental voice, it is probably loud enough to rattle his metaphorical skull. It says, _Bit arrogant way of thinking, isn’t it? You don’t ‘control’ a Legendary Pokémon unless you have a serious death wish. Best you can do is ask nicely and hope it’ll cooperate._

No, it isn’t control. However, he is given some _freedom._ Not many can claim that he has allowed in bed with a Legend and survives to tell the tale. Or at least, to remember the experience afterwards… 

…which makes it all the worse that he has come to Arceus like he did. Least of all, he should not involve the Alpha when it’s his own damned fault he had that stupid hard-on. 

“…I’m sorry, Arceus.” 

_-What for?_

The licking does not stop. It does not have to; the inquiry is made all the same, although it does slow down considerably. And now Ash is faced with a question that needs answering for both of their sakes. 

“I kinda… rush into things back there.” 

_-You definitely did, but it is hardly worth an apology._

“Y-yeah, about that…” Ash takes a deep breath and pushes himself upright so he sits cross-legged, his back against Arceus’ side. He has to be truthful to unknot the guilt in his chest, which doesn’t make it any easier to talk about. He takes another deep breath like it will be the only one he will be getting before he starts. “I _definitely_ owe you an apology. I just – I couldn’t control myself. I was already on my way back when I saw… _that.”_

He gulps, visibly struggling to find his voice which comes out eventually squeaky and very un-Ash-like, “…I didn’t mean to, it’s just that I happen to look at them; it was a dark alley, but it’s day anyway, and they were… they were just kissing at first and Pikachu tried to pull me away, but they did more than that. I saw the guy pulled up her skirt, there wasn’t much showing but I can see where the hands were going, and she made this sounds and – and –” 

Ash makes a despairing noise as his mind goes back in time, reliving the sudden arousal that has taken him by surprise and shame. Coming to his senses and realizing that he has breached on someone else’s privacy was bad enough, but worst of all was the near-insensible dash he made for the barnyard where Arceus has been staying whenever it came to visit. It’s all a blur to him now, how he has burst through the front door, surprising Arceus with his urgency before practically tackling the Alpha and kissing it all over. 

He’s always thankful that Pikachu is one perceptive Pokémon, but tonight that sentiment doubles. Pikachu had given him a wink and a pat on the back faster than he could understand what he’s doing in his desperation, leaving the house all to himself and Arceus… 

Ash blushes more deeply, his eyes avoiding Arceus’ and shrinking into himself. After a few minutes of courage-finding silence, with his eyes still evasive from locking on to the Legend, he mutters resignedly, “I went right back home after that but I can’t take them off my mind… and I took it all out on you…” 

He’s sure to get a stern lecturing at best, a cold shoulder more likely and an all-out displeasure at worst. He mentally prepares himself to all of these scenarios while Arceus just stares on, silent for what feels like eternity to the very nervous human. 

“I tried to get away! I swear – I don’t know why I stayed at all – I knew you’d be angry –” 

_-Angry? Why-ever would I be?_ Arceus _blinks_ puzzledly, only now realizing that Ash has done with the recounting and is now waiting for its verdict. 

“Uh…” Ash finally finds that the genuine curiousity a safe cue to look at the Legend-lover in the eyes again. His lower lip is still trembling though. “…I mean, it wasn’t you but I was still… turned on…?” 

Arceus blinks again, comically owlish considering that the Pokémon is not used to blinking while Ash waits nervously for the full implications of it to sink in Arceus’ mind. Arceus stretches its neck, letting its forehead meets the human’s scalp; they are now eye-to-eye, brown ones into red-on-green, each watching the other carefully. 

_-You are a normal young man with normal desires, Ash Ketchum. Your body simply reacts as it should under the circumstance – but it is your will that brings you back to me. In the end, you choose to share yourself with me, and that is not something I ought to be displeased with._

“But –” 

_-I insist that you think no more of this. Everything turns out for the best, despite what you may feel about it._

That’s… actually true, considering how he is now snuggling comfortably with the Alpha, the distant ache between his legs a fond reminder of his frantic rutting that starts it all. It’s not the best climax he’s ever had but it’s decent enough for something rushed and incomplete. He couldn’t even last long enough to get to the real deal – 

He realizes suddenly, as his face begins to heat up with a mixture of shame and disbelief at his own thoughtlessness, that he’d completely forgotten about Arceus’ part. His body jolts upright like a coiled spring finally released, all too conscious of Arceus’ eyes being trained suspiciously on his face. It’s a basic good manner in bed to ensure that both partners are having a good time, and he’s failing that simple task? 

“Oh, no – Arceus, I didn’t wait for you to finish…!” 

Arceus sighs heavily as if this is something it has been expecting, yet hoping to avoid discussing. 

_-I assure you that it is of no consequence. Your Aura was intense enough to satisfy me for the time being. And no, it is not a failing on your part, nor do you owe me anything._

Of course Arceus, being its Arceus-y self, will find ways to deflect each of his concern without needing him to say it out loud. 

Sure, he got some gifts with his Aura sensitivity but lacking in proper training of an Aura-user like Riley means that his options are limited if he tries to try those fancy Aura stuffs on his own. It’s the reason Arceus repeatedly assures him that his natural state, especially when influenced by his emotions, are more than enough to compensate for Ash being a human consort to a Legendary Pokémon. 

However, that doesn’t mean he can ignore its needs, what with Arceus being so understanding to him… 

“I know, but… it doesn’t feel right. And it’s not fair for you.” 

Before Arceus can reply, Ash crawls forward and settles himself into the space between its outstretched front legs where it’s easier for them both to continue touching each other. He can’t tell why exactly but stroking Arceus’ face is as much a source of comfort to him as it does to Arceus. Already he can see the pleasure clouding its eyes, whose glow fades ever so slightly the moment he runs circle with his thumb around the green spots. 

_-It is not a question of being fair,_ Arceus mumbles, somehow managing to resume its thought through his comfortable distraction. 

“I know that too. Doesn’t stop me from wanting to do it proper.” If only his human biology stops being in his way, he has no doubt what he wants to do next. As it is though… “So, how long do you think we’re gonna have to wait?” 

Between his eagerness and Arceus’ natural caution for his well-being, Ash can almost feel the swell of its Legendary Aura like a weight in his chest, trying to make complete the union the way Legendary Pokémon normally does with each other. He trusts Arceus to look out for them both but it is Ash’s role, so to speak, to assure and persuade it to wind down and just enjoy each other. 

_-Ash, you are insatiable,_ it says and fails spectacularly to make it sound like a complaint. More quietly, it adds, _-…I assume it will take a few more hours before it is safe to try and mate again…_

“I’m not ‘trying again’, Arceus. I’m definitely going for it – that’s a promise.” 

Arceus’ surprise is immensely satisfying to watch. He _really_ can’t get enough of it, and looks forwards to when Arceus is comfortable enough for him to make good on his promise.


	3. Renovation

Ash Ketchum runs as fast as his feet can carry him, but he still wishes that he’s part-pokémon capable of using Agility or, better yet, Extreme Speed. Arceus has patience, that much is a given – it’s an absolute must for a pokémon expected to watch over the entire Earth – but Ash, a human, does not. It’s hardly the most notable trait about him either, so it’s understandable that he tears down the road leading out of Pallet Town. He still has some ways to go before he reaches the forest’s edge and the barnhouse that is located there. 

Pikachu, being an Electric-type that he is, bounds alongside him effortlessly – a further point for regretting his mediocre, humanly speed. Ash won’t go so far as to say that he’s wasting precious time but he does feels like it is a time he rather more spends with his spouse. If only he hasn’t promised Prof. Oak to be his delivery-boy today; but he did, and thankfully it’s only one short trip to Prof. Elm’s. Something about an egg or a seed which needs delivering; with his mind stubbornly thinking about Arceus waiting for him at home, there’s not much room left for paying attention. 

_“Pika-chu!”_

Which is Pikachu’s way of saying that he should take it easy before he causes damages to himself, but of course Ash doesn’t see the point of it. 

“Come on,” he says, and surprises himself that much words spoken already leave him gasping for extra breaths. “Arceus. Not gonna make it wait.” 

It’s not like he hasn’t strained himself before; that’s pretty much how he rolls anyway. The barnhouse will be there for him to catch his breaths at the end of it. So, really – no reason not to push himself for now. That said, it’s still a considerable distance to run all the way that Ash finds himself almost hitting his limit by the time the barnhouse comes into view: He draws his breaths raggedly, his sides stinging with invisible needles, his legs feeling like fire is burning in his muscles… all of which are worth it when he spies the unmistakable, imposing figure of the Original One striding lonely around the front yard. 

“Hey, Arc –” 

Because, _of course_ he should make a misstep in the most inappropriate time, tripping over his own feet running over the uneven ground. His arms flail wildly for balance but it’s already too late. 

He falls down _hard,_ face first – or, he would have, if he hasn’t brought his arms together to protect his head area. His call for Arceus turns into a muffled, painful-sounding _unff!._

Pikachu, narrowly missing the heap of body that is Ash, sharply swerves to return to the trainer whom he has overshot. 

_“‘m fine,”_ he answers to the pikachu’s urgent pika, spitting out stray grasses and feeling for injuries on his face as he does. 

He doesn’t get to say much else after that as luminescent threads slither through the grasses towards him. He welcomes their coming, feeling them entwine his limbs and chest with warmth that he knows too well; within seconds, he is completely encompassed, lifted off the ground and carried over the remaining distance to the barnhouse where Arceus is waiting for its projected aura-vines to reel in completely and bring the Ketchum into its vicinity. Preparing himself to be dropped, Ash is instead lowered down gently on a long bench sitting against the house’s wall – a bench which he hasn’t seen before and which is definitely not here when he left a few hours ago. Similar aura-tendrils as that which carries Ash are now depositing Pikachu beside his trainer. 

He misses completely the Legend’s approach, somehow. Arceus’ shadow falling on him makes him look up at the face already above him; the late sunlight haloes its outline, gentler echo of the glow it wielded when Ash first saw it in its blinding rage. 

“Oh. Hi there, Arceus.” He gestures towards the field where he has been plucked from. “Thanks. You know I could’ve just walked from there but –” 

Arceus’ lowered head skims over his body in a quick inspection, stopping briefly at the one ankle he’s tripped over. It aches a little, but Ash knows his body enough that it will be back to normal in no time at all. 

“It’s not that bad, Arceus. See? It’s just one wrong step there.” 

_-Yes, I can see that,_ it says, finally lifting its face and carefully pushing its metal-laced forehead into the soft angle of his shoulder. Warm breaths that brings to mind of seaside breeze waft across the little patch of skin around the collar – he can never get enough of the comfort in these little things, just as he suspects that Arceus is not going to grow out of its tendency to nuzzle him anytime soon. 

_-…However, I rather wish you not being hurt by such trivial reasons. You are already prone to disasters as it is, not to mention your habits of heroism._

“Hey, I laugh in the face of dangers, don’t you know?” 

_-Unfortunately, dangers do not share the same sense of humour as you do._

It tingles where Arceus taps him with the tip of the forehead-snout – on his throat, his shoulders, down to his chest and several places along his arms – tiny pinpricks of electricity-like sensation that must be Arceus’ way of treating the aftermath of his fall. His muscles tense at first, then relax as the balming effects spread throughout his body. His burning lungs draw in fresh breaths without suffering the searing pain of fatigue. Arceus’ last stop is on the ankle, which it nuzzles cat-like – if there exists a cat the size of a house, that is, complete with the chest-vibrating purrs. The deep ache in his tendons miraculously dissipate the moment it withdraws. If not for the sweats still clinging to his skin, Ash would have a hard time believing that he’s just made a mad dash home. 

_-There,_ it murmurs with well-deserved satisfaction and ends it with another round of nuzzling, completely indifferent to his fresh-from-running ickiness. 

After all these years, _now_ he understands why most of the girls accompanying him on his pokémon travels weren’t too keen on being nearby after a few days of bathless journeys. Between him and Arceus’ flawless pelt – fur like velvet, white to the point of gleaming in the sunlight, and somehow terrifyingly pristine – it feels like a sin to even _touch_ the Legend. 

“Arceus, I’m not –” 

Much to his surprise, levitating in the air where it has no right to be, a china cup completely distracts him from whatever protests he is about to make. Lazily, almost precariously, it drifts towards him in a matching-patterned saucer, managing not to spill a drop of water despite looking it may crash into smithereens any moment now. 

_-You seem only tired. My Aura will help you regain your strength faster. Please, allow it to settle first,_ it says at the same moment as the cup-and-saucer does exactly that into his hands. 

He looks into the cup. The liquid swirling gradually to a stop in it has the look and scent of jasmine tea – complete with that very same flower as a decoration, floating on the surface like a lily in a pond. Pikachu, on the other hand, doesn’t seem bothered by the method of delivery and immediately bites into his snack – something that looks like a slice of sponge cake, to Ash’s eyes – with surprising eagerness, considering that he’s just had a hearty breakfast in town. 

…Well, Ash can’t say that he doesn’t feel thirsty himself after all that running. Taking a careful sip, Ash is pleasantly surprised that he is not met with a burnt tongue; the tea remains delicious and warm just right whether it is a drop or a mouthful. There’s something else about the taste too, something that he can’t quite point out what – it fills his mouth with a bittersweet yet not unpleasant taste, conjuring in his mind soothing images of smoking logs in a bonfire. The scent that plays in his nostrils is of jasmine but underneath that is the sweetness of rain-soaked grass and fertile Earth. 

It feels like he is tasting a sliver of Arceus itself, if that even makes sense. 

_-Human food preparation is normally outside of my expertise, but tea-brewing is something I am well-versed in. I hope it is to your liking,_ Arceus says, though its tone is already satisfied with the reactions it is getting from Ash. _-Drink it slowly. I have something that needed done for now, but I shall be nearby if you need me._

“Yeah, okay… – I mean, what are you going to do?” 

Arceus nuzzles him as an answer but declines to say more. Ash has the feeling that this is more out of urgency to have it done with rather than reluctance to explain. Leaving him to finish his cupful of tea, Arceus goes back to its aimless pacing around the front yard: ears swivelling, neck extended, its gaze sharp with inhuman perceptivity as it sweeps its surrounding. Sometimes, its head jerks into a direction for seemingly without reasons; other times, it gives an impression of sniffing the air. 

Ash is watching too, unsuccessfully. He sees nothing but the barnhouse and the green, peaceful meadow, smells nothing but the aroma of jasmine rising from his drink, hears nothing but the low sighs of wind among the grasses. 

_-Stay where you are, Ash,_ Arceus speaks up at the same moment as its hooves begin to glow and sprouts lightning from their tips. 

Ash’s first reaction is apprehension that turns quickly to fear. He’s had enough shares of unforeseen adventures that had brought him troubles ranging from threats to his life to world-ending catastrophe. However, Arceus’ advice and calmness reassures him from doing the things his instinct tells him to do. 

He is safer here than anywhere else. 

With that conviction, the scene before him becomes more awe-inspiring than terrifying. Pikachu leaps into Ash’s lap – carefully avoiding knocking the cup off Ash’s hold – to watch the unfolding spectacle together. Energy thrums around Arceus with an intensity that raises goosebumps on Ash’s skin. The evening breeze, calm and gentle elsewhere, is picking up speed and spiralling around the Alpha, undulating the extension on its head like a windblown ribbon. The light around its lower limbs becomes fluid, straddling descriptions of flame and lightning; its cool blue glow clashes with the golden radiance from its flank-wheel and the fiery wisps from the green gemstones in its four spokes. These herald the activation of its Multitype though after the initial flash dies down, Ash cannot say that he recognizes what Type Arceus has turned into. 

_“Pika-chu? Pika?”_

“I… can’t tell. It’s… Grass maybe? No, not Bug either. Or is it –” 

It’s not only because Ash hasn’t seen the Legend in all of its alternative formes; Arceus’ colour schemes don’t match the Types Ash is familiar with. All of the golden portions on its body, including the flank-wheel, are turquoise like tropical ocean, yet the colour is not right for a Water-Type Arceus. Its eyes and the gemstones in the wheel share the same unsettling glow, a colour of eerie purple that strikes a deep sense of foreboding. Ash is unsure of the creeping apprehension he senses for this version of Arceus while, at the same time, feeling an undeniable attraction to this unknown it has just revealed… 

_Well, duh,_ the small voice in his mind says. _That’s still Arceus; doesn’t matter if it got turned blue or green or red._

He’s stopped drinking his tea now but is not even aware of it, being so engrossed in the fantastic display of light and fierce wind. His eyes are hopelessly riveted. The fire-lightning is elongating, forming branches that take on a vague shape around Arceus, crossing each other at constant intervals until something like a circular net is formed around it. The threads still anchored around its limbs are brighter and more alive now, writhing like something wild that seeks for freedom. 

_-Scatter,_ it growls in a deep timbre Ash is unfamiliar with, throwing its command to the wind. 

Suddenly, there is a high-pitched sound, like a whine or a whistle, and for a second, the lighting cage wobbles; then, each line of the net spreads outwards explosively, bringing in their wake a shockwave that ripples through the ground and the still air easily like waves that forms on water surface. The scattered lines travel beyond the property’s boundary, eventually dissolving into freckles of light. In the deepening shadows of the edge of the forest, it looks like numerous fireflies have suddenly taken flight before disappearing altogether. 

It all happens so fast; Ash’s mouth is still hanging open by the time Arceus reverts back to its default Typing. His eyes follow after Arceus as it moves around – apparently inspecting its invisible handiwork – before gliding over to the still-sitting Ash and Pikachu. Ignoring his entranced human, Pikachu leaps down from the bench happily and chirps its question at Arceus, who listens with an air of amusement. 

_-Yes, there is more inside. You can have it if you wish,_ Arceus replies which promptly sends the pikachu into the barnhouse, a little extra spring in his steps at the thought of more snacks to be had. 

As for his trainer… 

The tip of Arceus’ forehead sneaks under his chin and gently pushes his mouth shut. 

_-Do you like what you see?_

Instantly, Ash’s cheeks burst with colour and hotness intense enough to make him feel in a danger of burning. He has no reason, _absolutely no reason,_ to be embarrassed – yet right now, he is. 

“I… You know. You look, um, cool.” 

Oh, Brock would be _furious_ if he’d heard this but eloquence is really not Ash’s suit. 

-Is that so? Do tell me if you prefer to see me in any particular way, Arceus replies, not at all displeased with his choice of word. 

His childish, awkward choice of word. 

He can have a million thing to say in his mind but it’s like his mouth has a filter that leaves most of his thoughts unvoiced. Cool doesn’t even begin to describe what he wants to say, seeing Arceus in that unusual colours, bathed in the light of fire and lightning, miniature tornadoes whipping up at its feet as though to protect their creators. He’s always loved spectacles of pokémon battling for similar reasons – apart from satisfaction in a good fight, Ash loves seeing how their various powers manifest, from the torrent of Flamethrower to the graceful flow of aqua Ring, and everything else in between. All of those vast potentials… they reside in the Original One, even ones that no other have access to. It’s just natural that he would be awestruck by Arceus’ performance, no matter what purpose it is trying to achieve with it. 

_However._

Ash has never felt quite the same thing watching Pikachu uses Thunderbolt or when Serperior unleashes her vines in a Vine Whip. He can’t say exactly how it’s different with Arceus… but it is, in a way that makes him want to jump up, rush off towards the Legend and maybe do stupid or embarrassing things no one would have thought appropriate to the Original One. 

Presently, he doesn’t need to do anything like that. His urge is well taken care of by Arceus’ little nuzzles to his chest and shoulder, having carefully plucked the half-empty cup from his fingers and sets it aside for a safer access to his upper body. That’s fine – as delicious as the tea is, Ash is more interested in entertaining its maker, now that said person is available. He brings his arms up, cradling the head by holding on to the lower jaw. 

_-So, Ash, how was your errand? All accomplished, I hope?_

“Hmm?” Oh, right. That’s why he left in the first place, or he would have stayed with Arceus as long as its visit to Earth. “It went alright. The bus is a bit crowded, but once I got back to Pallet Town, I don’t get held back as much. Anyway, won’t you fill me in on your day?” 

_-I have taken quite a liberty myself to do some… renovations, I would say. I was just about to make the finishing touch when you arrived._

“‘A finishing touch’. For what?” 

_-Kanto is not robust enough for repeated visits, unlike Sinnoh. But this is your home and now, you have made it mine also. If I intend to return to it regularly, I have to ensure that the spatial dimension of this place is resilient enough to withstand my prolonged presence._

“…Oh.” Because apparently, messing with the fabric of reality is just another day’s work for Legendary Pokémon whose cohorts include Dialga and Palkia. He really _shouldn’t_ be surprised by now. “Seems like I should’ve asked you first when I bought this land.” 

_-On the contrary, I am glad that this is your choice entirely. I can always improvise where it is needed._

Another nuzzling, meant to reassure this time. Its breaths warm the skin previously chilled by his sweats. He answers with careful brushes of his knuckles along the smooth jawline and receives a pleased hum in return. 

_-I had also rejuvenated the aquifer in the surrounding bedrocks. There will be no trouble of dried well even during the hottest season._

Laughter bursts out of him before he could think about it, drawing Arceus’ ears tilting towards him. “You know, when I said a house makeover, I was thinking more like a new coat of paint, new fences, putting up wallpapers – stuffs like that.” 

_-Priorities, Ash. We will get to the cosmetics in time._

His eyebrow arches in curiosity. “Sounds like you got more things planned.” 

_-Just a few minor things. This place is sufficiently isolated but I hope to install a diversion or a cloaking spell on the perimeter, just in case. I rather not have travellers chance upon us and our home._

“Yeah, that won’t do, would it?” 

This place is their sanctuary, their little secret. Maybe not to Pikachu, and his mother has her suspicions if not the details, but Ash and Arceus’ rendezvous here is unknown to other people. Arceus treasures its privacy greatly and Ash… Ash won’t want to rob that from his beloved. The Original One has already given him much, and given up much more just for the chance to have and hold each other. 

He pulls the head closer. Actually, it’s more of him making a gesture and having Arceus follows suit. Under his own power, Ash won’t be able so much as tug at its fur but Arceus is content to lay its head on his lap, gentle enough that Ash won’t be put under an uncomfortable pressure but enough so to feel its weight. He places his forehead on the top of its skull, breathing in its wild, heavenly scent that infuses the Original One – a scent of nature in herbs and flowers and smoked woods. 

“What else?” He asks into the fur, every syllable bringing his lips into fleeting contact with the silken hide. “You got so much things playing around in here. Tell me about them, Arceus. I want to hear them all.” 

_-That is hardly a fair arrangement if I cannot hear yours as well,_ Arceus replies, bringing a smile to Ash’s lips when hearing the one in the pokémon’s voice. 

With one hand still supporting its head underneath, the other begins to wander up until his fingertips catch the faint difference in texture. He’s seen Arceus’ profiles so many times now and touched it nearly as much; without looking, Ash is confident that his thumb is rubbing the green circle on its cheek, just behind the end of its mouth. The sighs he hears rumbling around in Arceus’ throat pretty much confirm it. 

“What do you say if we go inside? It’s going to be dark soon. We can talk better there,” he says but waits for no response; instead, beckoning for Arceus to lifts its head, Ash stands up from the bench once he has enough room to do so. He takes the partially drunk cup in one hand and keeps the other on the side of its neck – practically one of the easily reachable part of the Legend when it stands barring the legs. 

Arceus doesn’t need an invitation but Ash gives it nevertheless, with a jerk of his head and a lingering hand on its forehead pulling him towards the gaping door. Light spills in from within, powered by electricity the solar cells have gathered during the day. Ash has acquired the convenience from Clemont who, to his credit, asks nothing but expresses delight that Ash chooses an environmentally-friendly power source. It is only one item crossed off his need-to-do list, leaving many more to go through… but they’ll get to the bottom of it eventually. 

_-I agree,_ Arceus says, gathering itself to its feet and follows its mate into the warm welcome of their home.


	4. Memento

It is boredom more than anything else which prompts Ash to pick up the pencil and, lacking a proper drawing pad, the battered notebook. Half of the pages are filled with miscellaneous notes ranging from pokémon biology facts to battle strategies to simple reminder memos; past this, occasional, sparse, incomplete sketches interspersed with blank pages, and he sets the tip of the pencil on one of them to make his sketch. 

Pikachu is off romping in the grass with his other pokémon which for the moment consists of Noivern, Torterra, Unfezant and Scrafty. Though Ash is not one to keep his pokémon inside their balls all the time, nevertheless they will relish whatever chances given to them to be in the sun and fresh air. Their liberated joys are also what inspire Ash to pick up his unpolished talent to draw – he has not taken a formal course in arts, nor has he bothered to refine his skills in them – which the relatively relaxed Torterra as his focus. The others are far too quick and dynamic to allow him any measure of analysis for a decent drawing without rendering them into blurred lines. 

The Torterra is halfway done, with Ash needing only to fill in the shading and minor details of his Earthy carapace, before a very amused voice whispers in his ears – and in his mind: 

_-A commendable piece, if I may say so._

He looks up by reflex and, sure enough, the speaker’s appearance mere seconds later is heralded by a golden glow at the edge of the meadow where tall trees cast flickering shadows on the ground with their wind-swayed leaves. Its emergence is silent as always though once it allows itself to be seen, there is no ignoring the tall, white form standing on four slender, pointed legs; its outline radiant with golden light remnant of whatever tricks it has just accomplished, probably the whole portal-opening thing that allows this creature to be here at all. 

Arceus glides on thin air rather than striding on its perfectly capable legs as it makes to approach the Ketchum, its progress watched intently by the other pokémon – sans Pikachu of course, who is as used to it as his Trainer does, and rushes to Ash’s side for the almost ritualistic greeting to follow. 

“Hello, Arceus,” Ash says, the pencil and notebook taking a secondary importance to the head towering a few feet about in on a fairly long neck, putting the Trainer and the Pikachu on his shoulders in shadows. 

_-Greetings; Ash, Pikachu,_ the Legendary Pokémon returns amiably. Unblinking eyes stare at the human and the yellow rodent, then on the other pokémon now making their way to their Trainer. Immediately Arceus proceeds to greet them as well, by name, one by one, in order of their arrivals. 

As the last name (Torterra) is spoken for, Ash says, “You know, I have about thirty tauros and two dozen pokémon back at Prof. Oak’s. Are you going to do that to each one?” 

_-If we happen to meet them all at once, yes, why not? They are all your charges._

“That’s not what I’m saying. I mean, are you going to call out 40, 50 times, just so you can call each one by name?” 

_-I will not mind that. However, I imagine prolonged greetings will be detrimental to patience, so I will likely compromise. Perhaps a general addressing will suffice for such occasions?_

Of course – Trust Arceus to elaborate with all the seriousness of doing a multimillion-dollar business on whimsical points that just randomly crosses his mind. He should have known better that Arceus doesn’t take an inquiry lightly, especially that he has continued pressing for more explanations after the initial answer. 

“Alright, alright,” he moans mock-despairingly and throws up both arms up in resignation worthy of a soldier in surrender, “you do you, Arceus. I’m not going to complain ever again.” 

Of which he is immediately responded with a gentle head-butting that still knocks some air out of his lungs – Arceus is simply large that even a careful use of its strength will still result in occasional accidents and minor soreness. That is swiftly mitigated by an even more careful nuzzling whilst rearranging itself into a neat sitting beside the Trainer, while the rest of the pokémon settle around them in a haphazard circle. The background murmurs of his Pokémon are recognizably excited, making no attempts to be discreet in their mentioning and pointing of their Trainer and the Original One. It causes a mild sensation of déjà vu in Ash; his pokémon has never been formally introduced to Arceus except for Pikachu, knowing only that Ash is in a relationship with the Legendary Pokémon either by words of mouth or by chance meeting, like now. 

_-Now, you were in the middle of drawing something before I interrupted you. Please continue with it if you are still so inclined. I would like it if you share it with me._

Ash holds up said piece to be examined, acutely aware that whatever comment coming his way is more than likely a diplomatic one. At least Torterra looks immensely pleased with the result and proudly ambles around as if to show off his intricate, tree-growing carapace. He’s done his best, of course, but given that he never has any formal training with arts other than some leisurely sketches here and there, his nervousness isn’t unreasonable. It becomes a little more daunting when he remembers that back in Solaceon Town, Angie’s oh-so-constructive criticism on his dewgong sketch hadn’t been that constructive anyway; he could only imagine what Arceus would have to say, considering that Arceus is… well… 

…Legendary Pokémon aren’t known for having a poor taste, simply put. 

_-It seems that it is not talent that you are lacking in, but practice,_ Arceus says amicably after a short while. 

A short while that Ash has decided to fill with a frown, a scowl and a good dose of defeated sighing. 

“Cut it out. You’re just teasing me.” 

_-Credit is given where credit is due, Ash,_ Arceus says with a hint of admonishment which is a little surprising. He hasn’t heard that particular tone since… well, for some time, really, since Arceus usually maintains an appearance of calmness or mild amusement depending on which mood that strikes its fancy in that particular moment. An unexpected wave of embarrassment makes him lower the notebook as if it is something shameful. Arceus, on the other hand, would have none of it and sends forth his tangible aura to surround the sketchbook – at which point Ash knows well enough that he will not win this particular tug-of-war. He still makes an attempt for it as per his natural impulse. He ends up with a sigh of defeat and a sore back when he stumbles back upon losing his grip on the smooth covers, and resigns himself to whatever comment coming in his way. 

_-Your spirit seeps into every stroke of the pencil. Here, this line – I sense a great deal of wonder that inspires this drawing._

The same tangible aura which had won the tug-of-war for Arceus is now branching off a more delicate tendril to help the Legend pinpoint its interest. It rests on the crisscrossing lines to depict the bark of the tree on the torterra’s carapace. 

_-And here is your joy as you watch your pokémon playing around the field._

The tendril sprouts an even flimsier branch to surround the eye. Despite himself, Ash is fascinated in watching Arceus’ dissection of his moods in every stroke that makes up the sketch, even down to the rudimentary lines that looks more like dirt smudges than his attempts at shading. His pokémon gather around in tighter circle as well to listen to the comments, even hanging over his shoulders when the space becomes cramped. 

By the time Arceus explains most of its impressions on the sketch, as well as a few others, Ash is a little light-headed by the abundance of information. 

“Is this how you always see artsy things? Like, you can tell what someone is feeling from their works?” 

_-Sometimes. Aural sympathies are like a fingerprint; the more driven the maker is in his crafts, more of his ‘signature’ will seep into his works. It also dissipates with time._

Ash looks down at his sketch. He does tend to take out his pencils when he’s particularly inspired while also having the time to just sit down and devote himself to it. It makes him feel a lot better to hear Arceus’ explanation. 

_-Not to mention,_ Arceus adds with a carefully affectionate nuzzle to his fingers, emphasizing the one which is wearing the ring of their union, _-You and I are bonded, so I am naturally much more perceptive to your Aura._

“You never told me about this.” 

_-It has been implied aplenty, if not told directly. Most noticeably is how you dreamt of me when we are apart, which –_

Ash feels his blush rising well before he manages to blurt out, “Whoa, hey now!” 

The rest of him follows suit with a lunge to hug the Legend’s neck – He knows too well the kind of dreams he is having when Arceus’ presence occupies his mind to the point of affecting his sleep. Call him a prude or whatever; he is not going to sit idle while Arceus nonchalantly recounts all the not-so-innocent things he wishes to do to the Legend. 

Somehow, he finds himself straddling the base of Arceus’ neck, his notebook completely forgotten and thrown aside. The Original One is now resting on its side from the chest-up; its hindquarter is more or less held in place by the giant spoked wheel around its stomach. Trusting eyes peer at him from the shadowed face, its naturally emitted light causing the eye-colours to be much more vivid than they are by default. 

The silence between them is almost palpable despite the noises of his numerous pokémon. 

_Damn,_ is the word that comes to his mind when he remembers to breathe again. To garner the interest of a Legendary Pokémon is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and for most people, it is more of a never-in-my-lifetime thing. It’s naturally odd to think of Arceus as his-anything, much less his spouse when he considers that this is the same pokémon who has no qualms throwing down some hands with eldritch monsters and winning it, who is also turning out to be a… a closeted sweetheart. 

Really, who would’ve guessed? Not Ash; not until the evidence of mutual attraction becomes indisputable. It hasn’t been an easy choice, considering the issues involved… but Ash is glad that he made it. 

Ash can’t help it; he leans forward, brushing a lingering kiss to the golden point on its forehead. The metal is warm contrary to his instinctive expectation for coolness. 

Beneath him, an anticipative Arceus relaxes at the touch of his mouth. It’s honestly endearing, knowing that he’s able to provide towards its fondness for attention like this. After a while, the forehead is replaced with a closed mouth and then, a slightly open one. A deep, growling sound rattles inside its chest which Ash is taking pride in and persists long after they make the mutual decision to part. 

_-What is it that you are thinking, dearest one?_ Arceus’ whisper is like a breeze. The light in its eyes are gently muted but not in any way lacking because of it, since Ash looking into them still gives him that whirlpool-dizzy sensation until he snaps himself out of it. 

Ash manages a grin despite his diminished breaths only now beginning to recover. “I’m thinking… that I’m probably the luckiest guy that nobody ever knows.” 

_-My Dragons know, and the Spirit Guardians as well,_ Arceus says innocently. _-…Ho-Oh does; Xerneas and Yveltal also, and –_

“Nobody _human,_ Arceus.” Ash bites the inner side of his cheek, thinking. “Besides my family and friends.” 

_-In other words, those whose opinions actually matter to you._

“…I guess you’re right.” 

Arceus stretches its neck to reach out with its gold-trimmed forehead to Ash’s cheek. _-…You remind me of something, Ash; the way you feel, the way you look at me…_

“Yeah? What is it?” 

_-It is you. Or, ‘you’ as you were before we were bound to one another._

“C’mon, Arceus. You know I can’t read Auras like you do. I don’t even know if you’re saying it’s a good thing or a bad thing.” He straightens up, loosely feigning his frustration with his tightly crossed arms. “Gimme a little hint here.” 

_-As you wish. But, first, may I borrow that sketchbook of yours?_

Ash stares but Arceus is not explaining anything more. “…Uh, sure?” 

It’s more or a surprise than reluctance when he falters with the reply, though any attempt to explain it gives way to more confusion when Pikachu’s aid is asked for. He gleefully snaps a salute and goes off fetching said item, returning with it balanced wobblingly on his back as Arceus re-adjusts its seating and coaxes Ash to do the same beside it. 

Ash still doesn’t know what this has to do with the book when it lays open in front of him. A slender mauve tendril snakes forth from one of the emeralds in Arceus’ flank-wheel, careful yet swift in its touch in turning over the pages backwards. The sketches of Torterra glimpse past, then a Swallowtail, then Greninja throwing his water _shuriken,_ Pikachu snoozing by a lake, Serperior, Charizard, Buneary… 

Pages after pages after pages of sketches – some complete, some halfway there, none having more palette than a pencil’s grayscale – blur together until the book is opened near the beginning. 

_-Ah, there it is,_ Arceus announces triumphantly. 

Curiously, Ash leans forward on his knees. 

Staring with a sideward glare at him is the grayscale head-profile of Arceus on a graphite-blackened background. Like most of the sketches, this too remains unfinished which is most prominent in the shading – Ash remembers that this is because he doesn’t know how to portray the kind of light the Original One is emitting. That also reminds him that it’s the first ever attempt he’s made at drawing Arceus and left incomplete because he simply can’t come to terms between his imaginations and the actual results. On paper, his meagre pencil-sketches has rendered Arceus stiff and clumsy when in real life, its movements are flowing and graceful. 

“So… what about it?” A second later, Ash realizes that the fact Arceus specifically aware of it is a puzzle in itself. Precious few people in his life knows about his occasional drawing urges, let alone one that results in a sketch of the Original One. “And you know about this?” 

_-Thanks to your Pikachu, that is. He has shown it to me once, long ago, when you came to me for our rendezvous in the glade._

“But that’s… ages ago!” In fact, when he started the outline it’s more than a year ago, well before Arceus made its proposal as bonded pair. He says thusly to the Legend. 

_-Correct, dear one. And on my eyes first seeing it, I am – to say the least – awed._

“This?” He turns around the yellowing page with obvious confusion and just as obviously failing to find anything particularly distinguishing about this. “Arceus, this isn’t something I’d call a drawing. It’s just a sketch. A pencil sketch. I’ve done better on other pokémon… that’s why I stopped, really. It doesn’t do you justice.” 

Arceus’ expressions, spoken through the glow of its eyes and the relaxedness of its posture, is that of patience and good-intentioned humour. _-It hardly matters. You were inspired to attempt it and though you may feel like it is a failure, I can sense your spirit in it. I didn’t even know that it was a drawing that was radiating out your Aura until it is shown to me._

Ash hasn’t decided yet whether Pikachu – who is happily perching himself on Ash’s shoulder – sneak-showing it to Arceus is a good or bad thing. Hopefully the former, as Pikachu points at the drawn Arceus and trills a questioning, _“Pika?”_

_-The details of emotion have faded with the passing time. But yes, I can still sense the general disposition of it,_ Arceus explains to what must have been Pikachu’s inquiry about said drawing. 

“…So, you said you can sense my Aura in it. What’s about it that’s so memorable?” 

_-Frankly, it is the first insight I have into your mind as to how you viewed me back then._

There are times when Ash still feels like he’s in need of Human-to-Arceus dictionary despite being its legit life-mate. “…Uh-huh. Care to explain a bit more on that?” 

_-That you consider me a friend just like your fellow humans. And that you are interested in me on a… shall we say, personal level._

“… ‘Personal level’… I mean, yeah. Once I know you’re not going to hurt me or my friends, I don’t see why shouldn’t I try being friend with you… you know?” 

Only… 

…That’s not all there is, wasn’t it? By then, they’ve long passed that is-it-going-to-kill-me phase and trudged against all odds into unlikely friendship. It surprised Ash that he’d genuinely looked forward to spending time with the Alpha Legend more than he did some friendly battling with fellow Trainers. There’s something to be said when they’ve been meeting secretly in the glade which Ash was just too dense to consider as being a little more extra than ‘just friends’… 

“I’m, uh, not sure what I was thinking when drawing this, actually.” He wasn’t, but maybe he can guess. Arceus has always been a painfully private individual; that has been the first time it talked about the friends it has lost through no one’s fault but time. 

The coal-dark background of the drawing has been his poor attempt to portray its mournful reminiscence; so much so that Ash has felt the urge to hug Arceus and would’ve done so happily, if only he knew if it’s not breaching some unknown Legendary Pokémon etiquette. 

Which is itself strange, isn’t it? His track record with common sense is not always the best but with Arceus, he’s been uncharacteristically careful not to do anything insensitive. He’d chalked it up to simply not wanting to offend allegedly the most powerful of the Legendary Pokémon… but that reasoning falls apart too, considering one of the first things he did in his first meeting with it was having Pikachu launch a Thunderbolt straight to its chest. In self-defence, of course, but the point stands. 

Maybe it was too early to call it ‘love’ or whatever, but there’s definitely some attraction in there. 

Damn, Brock has a point when he said that Ash lived his life like a clueless protagonist in those evening TV dramas. 

Did Arceus know this about him? Compared to Ash, the Alpha Legend has always been far more attuned to feelings both its own and Ash’s. It wouldn’t terribly surprise him if this is another incident to blame on his emotional blind-spot, and asks Arceus if that’s the case here. 

_-I could not know for sure. Although, at the very least, it made me reconsider that an interest in a human may not be as absurd as I first deemed it to be._

As his face begins to heat up, Ash swallows to no avail; his throat remains stubbornly dry. “You… fell in love with me because of this?” 

_-I would say… that the seed was planted beforehand. Your Aura and the feelings therein are the nourishing water that allow it to sprout._

“Wow.” Because if he’s to be honest, it sounds like a fairy tale that he’s fortunate enough to be a part of. To think that a drawing this simple may have been responsible as the jumping board for their eventual romance… “And then you went ahead and asked me to be yours.” 

_-That is an exaggeration, Ash. It has taken me quite a while to gather the necessary courage,_ Arceus remarks with the same good-natured humour and not a little sheepishness. _-I may have been expecting rejection from the onset but the thought of it is still awkward to come to grips with._

Ash can’t help himself from laughing. “Lucky us, because if it’s all on me I’d be too stupid to think about asking you out.” 

_-Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. Knowing you, you would have found one way or another to disclose your feelings. It would not be the first time you resort to something… dramatic._

Arceus’ natural glow intensifies momentarily with humour before the metallic forehead is lowered to his level to nudge at his cheek. To be honest, Ash doesn’t think that he shares Arceus’ optimism on his romantic literacy to make the first move but it’s not something worth sweating about too much at this point. 

“Maybe I should try again. Drawing you, I mean,” Ash muses. It would not be anything to speak of when put side-to-side with the works or master artists; it may even come out hilariously inaccurate but somehow, the thought of committing all the inevitable mistakes doesn’t seem as scary as it has been a few minutes ago with Arceus’ support – and also because said Legend is being distractingly affectionate with its head settled in Ash’s lap. 

_-If you want to, you should,_ Arceus whispers and eases into Ash’s questing fingers for pleasurable spots to stroke, _-and I would be happy to help when that day comes._

“Deal,” and truthfully, Ash is already curious how well its current position will translate onto paper… and what would Arceus perceives from it if he does.


	5. Reunion

It would have been dramatically apt if it has been a ‘dark and stormy night’, but it is not so. The sky in that particular night is clear and shining with the light of the moon waxing into Cresselia’s favoured phase. 

That night, in the silent barnyard house very few souls are aware of its existence, the man rises from the bed with alert eyes. The figure beside him is unmoving save for his peaceful breaths and intermitted snores. The awakened man spends a few moments to stare at his sleeping companion, contemplating his choices, before rising quietly from the mattress. Out from the tangles of blanket he has been sharing with his mate, the man reveals a misleadingly willow-like build, clad in white from top to bottom and a golden pendant dangling from a chain about his neck. He walks through the hallway and the seldom-used kitchen, both awaiting repairs and renovation. The floorboards make no sound whatsoever under his footsteps as he moves from a shadow to another, broken by the patches of light filtering in from the windows. In the darkness, if one cares – or _dares_ – to look, it can be seen that his green eyes are reflective like glass and his pupils hold a pinprick of red in the centre like little embers. 

In this form, he wears the name of ‘Aidan’ to unsuspecting individuals; he supposes that this name will have no use to the presences he is about to confront beyond the front door. There has been no knocking; it is not needed. He can sense his kin clearly even in this diminished body. 

A twist of the doorknob and the door swings open. 

The man called Aidan beholds before him a twin-pair, a thematic opposite of each other. 

“Greetings, Lord Protector.” This is said in flawless unison by voices as different as day and night. 

Aidan’s head tilt slightly to the side, a behaviour carried over from his original appearance. The eyes of Legends never lie about the power within and just like Aidan’s reveal who he is, the twins’ eyes – a blue pair for the white one, deep red for the black one – speak of a power long sundered yet implacably tenacious. The pre-constructed barrier around the perimeter doesn’t confound Legendary visitors the way it should on too-curious mortals, but it does offer a glimpse as to the general truth of their intents as reflected in their Aural traces. 

It allows him a measure of repose in dealing with unexpected guests, especially at this ungodly hour. 

“The Dragon of Truth,” Arceus – for this is who he truly is beyond his mortal disguise – says to the white-clothed one, then turns to the other, “and the Dragon of Ideals. To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

His words are pleasantries imbued with the subtlest sense of strictness – Legends are notoriously quick to ire when unduly disturbed, doubly so when confronted in one’s own territory. 

“Indeed, we have come for mere visit,” the black-twin says with voice like distant thunders. 

“We are here to see a friend,” the white-twin chimes; their voice is a musical lilt at a higher register than their other half. 

Arceus says nothing. His gaze has done so amply. No Legends save only for his Renegade kin, Giratina, can endure the pressure of the Alpha’s Aura. It takes a conscious effort to ease his emanation into something less… unpleasant. 

“We come in peace, Lord Protector. Your mate is our ally.” The white-twin’s voice has wavered ever so slightly from its previous calmness and has lost some of its harmony. 

“Is this, by any chance, an emergency?” 

Arceus’ disapproval is faintly noticeable despite his efforts. The twins recognize this and speak in tandem, “No, Lord Protector.” 

“Humans claim the nights for their rest. Surely you know this.” They _should_ – for though they come from the heavens, they have lived among humans for enough time to understand their nature. “He sleeps now. Come later, when the sun is up.” 

Silence for a few moments, then, “Expect us then, and good night.” 

They bow and rise out of it in seamless synchronization; a perfect mirror of each other. Arceus does not yet understand why looking at them brings a tinge of restlessness – there is no threat they can feasibly pose that Arceus cannot deter even if they wish to, but that is not why he feels so. 

It is not their intention but something in their nature. It persists like a stubborn ringing in the ear as Arceus watches the pair disappears into the night side by side. Zekrom, the Dragon of Ideals and Reshiram, the Dragon of Truth – one who are apart. Together in separateness. How curious – Arceus hasn’t seen their mortal disguises for a while now, not since the days before the War of the Vale. Another smaller twinge follows this line of thought, this one slightly more familiar to him as a sign of involvement from Arceus’ Draconic kindred. 

Some _where,_ somewhen, reality as it should be has failed and consequently mended by either Palkia or Dalgia, or both. 

His mind abuzz, Arceus makes himself shut the door and returns to the bedroom. 

Arceus is careful not to wake Ash or his Pikachu sleeping nearby. He almost succeeds too, for Ash is a known heavy sleeper when he is not out in the wilds but just as he settles back into place beside the Ketchum, he begins to stir. 

_“Ergh.”_ Which would be a normal sound from a sleepy Ash but not what he says next. “‘s up, babe?” 

_He does not even open his eyes,_ Arceus notes through the shock of the nickname. Ash doesn’t usually defer to nicknames. With a hand on the Ketchum’s hip-bone, Arceus pulls him closer to nuzzle the young man’s temple from behind, whispering as he does so, “It is not important now. Go back to sleep, dearest.” 

“Can you?” 

“I can still rest in other ways, Ash.” 

He is struggling with his heavy eyes and blinking scarcely helps. “Wanna change back? Be more comfy?” 

Indeed, Arceus is more at ease in his original body but… “Not now, no.” 

“‘y sure?” 

Arceus’ chest warms internally at the concern. “Positive. Sleep, dearest; you oughtn’t be awake now. It is in the middle of the night.” 

_“Mmm…_ ‘kay.” Ash visibly relaxes when Arceus presses himself against his back. It is very endearing how Ash prefers to cuddle in this way – to be the ‘small spoon’, if Arceus understands the term right – and rather convenient since Arceus’ mortal disguise happens to always be taller than Ash is, whether it chooses to be a man or woman. 

Yes, it is capable of modifying his aesthetics but why bother when Ash is approving of it as it is? 

In no time at all, Ash is back to gently snoring in his sleep. For himself, Arceus slips into a meditative trance which he usually prefers over ‘normal’ sleeps. Arceus is not so exhausted as to warrant that level of rest, nor his encounter with the draconic twins allows his Aura to calm down enough for it. 

… 

… 

When daybreak rolls a few hours later, Arceus is the only one who is ‘awake’ – Pikachu remains snuggled comfortably in his basket, and Ash in the Legend’s arms. Though his senses are considerably muted in his disguise, Arceus is certain that the visiting twins from last night haven’t yet returned as promised. 

Which means they will soon – Legends rarely stray from their vows. 

Arceus is planning on how best to start the day with this knowledge of anticipation when Ash shifts ever so slightly against him. 

“Hey Arceus,” he sleepy-slurs so that the greeting comes out almost garbled. “Mornin’.” 

“Good morning, my dear.” 

Arceus smiles for the concept of time is more dynamic to Arceus and its Dragon cohorts than to Earth-bound creatures. To offer Earthly time-specific greetings is something Arceus is familiar with but not quite a habit just yet… which reminds Arceus: The Legendary twin is familiar with such niceties – after all, they did associate closely with humans once upon a time – even bidding him a ‘good night’ upon parting. 

They really should have known better than to appear on anyone’s front door at such unconventional hours. It will also be better not to let Ash be caught by their surprise appearance later. 

“Ash, we are likely to have guests today.” 

“Really? _Ugh…_ I should get up now, shouldn’t I…?” 

It is only a rhetorical question since Ash waits for no reply before wriggling himself out of Arceus’ hold. He manages to sneak in a pet or two on Pikachu’s head on his way to fetch his towel and induces a semi-protesting yawn from the pokémon, then heads off towards the bathroom on sleep-groggy feet. 

It occurs to Arceus that he has not yet informed him the nature of their would-be guests; that Ash is inclined to assume them to be some prospective Trainers looking for friendly battles. Or just lost travellers in need of direction and strangers’ kindness for supplies. Those occasions are rare but not completely unheard of, for exceptions are made for those in need or of harmless intentions despite Arceus’ spell-barriers. 

Explanations can come later, Arceus decides, and makes his way to the kitchen. He needs no physical sustenance, strictly speaking, but Ash does and is very fond of breakfast. For this reason, culinary skills are very much a point of struggle to the Legend. Arceus excels in the making of Ambrosia and is reasonably competent in tea-brewing, but the rest of human food is embarrassingly challenging; even more so that Ash notices its struggle and shows up one day toting a brand-new toaster and bundle of jam jars… 

Ash means well, Arceus tells itself again and again, but the niggling sense of incompetence is difficult to ignore after a lifetime of striving for perfection. 

One thing that Arceus learns is that humanoid hands are more suited to accomplish human tasks in a human dwelling than its original forme’s tactile aura. While he remains in disguise to put the kettle to boil, Pikachu joins the Legend in the kitchen and chirps a cheerful ‘good morning’ from the countertop. 

“And good morning to you too, little one.” Without missing a beat, he takes a toast and lather an extra dollop of lum berry marmalade – Pikachu’s favourite. “Here. What do you think Ash would like today?” 

_“Pika-pika.”_

“Mixed flavours? Any suggestion?” Because goodness knows that Arceus is not palate-experienced enough to try his own mix without input. Pikachu kindly points to a number of berry flavours and slightly confuses Arceus in the process – there are so many interesting combinations – and settles with an assortment of lum, leppa and rawst berry-jams. 

A shower-cold face presses against the back of Arceus’ shoulder when he is done with the serving, followed by a cheerful, “Hey, Arceus. What you got there for me?” 

Arceus glances over said shoulder where Ash is grinning widely. His hair, hastily dried and combed, is already deciding to be rebellious and sticking up the first few strands. Arceus pushes back the instinctive desire to nuzzle into those delightful hair, focusing instead on the breakfast served in front of them. 

“Just the toast, I’m afraid.” It is difficult not to feel self-conscious about the selection. “I will be brewing some tea to go with it.” 

“What’s wrong with that? That looks good.” 

Arceus huffs sceptically and is on the verge of explaining exactly what is wrong with it, but Ash is already plopping himself down on a vacant chair and chomps into his first piece of bread. Arceus should feel glad that his mate is not a picky eater; but that is also the reason why he is frequently careless with his meals and also why Arceus feels responsible to compensate as his life-partner… 

By the time tea is served, Ash is happily licking his fingers for the leftover jams and looking genuinely satisfied with the meal. 

Arceus decides that his insecurity is not worth entertaining and sits down beside him – not to eat, for he doesn’t feel like eating at the moment, but to simply enjoy his company. 

Infuriatingly, that is also the moment Arceus’ sixth sense flares with recognition of the presences approaching from the forest surrounding the house. And just as he is about to relax too! Heaving a deep breath to let the irritation bleeds away, Arceus intends to inform Ash of just that when the rhythmical knocking on the door begins. 

“That must be the guests you were telling me!” 

And with Arceus’s mouth left hanging open, Ash hurries for the door after downing half of his cup of tea (which will probably leave him with noticeable scald a few hours from now). Pikachu exchanges a look of puzzlement and a resigned shrug with Arceus, then follows after his Trainer. 

…So much for preparing for the guests. The explanation dies unsaid in his throat as Arceus too gives up on the interrupted breakfast. 

The door is already opened and the monochromatic twins are bowing their acknowledgement for the Ketchum when Arceus joins them. From Ash’s casual address of them, Arceus doubts that he is aware of their identities, though perhaps he does sense a slight abnormality in their Aural pressures. Ash is sensitive enough for that but not having the proper training to put his talents to use. 

“You guys must’ve been from a long way. Not many people pass by this part of Kanto.” He extends his arm for Pikachu to hop on and makes a perch out of his shoulder. “I’m Ash. This here is my partner, Pikachu and that is… uh, Aidan, my –” 

“They know who we are, Ash, and it is no coincidence that they are here.” To the visitors in black and white, Arceus exclaims, “This land is under my watch and my blessing. It is safe here. If you come for friendly visitations, reveal the forms with which Ash is familiar with you.” 

Arceus’ change in attitude is followed by the change in physical appearances back into its true, towering, four-legged body. Enveloped in the golden light characteristic of Arceus’ power, the emerald-studded pendant retakes its place around its flank as the humanly disguise is forgone for its original forme. Sleek, snow-white hide takes the place of the cottony garments. The slightly peculiar eyes return to their truly inhuman nature: blazing red pupils on green scleras. 

A bewildered Ash looks back at the Alpha Legend when its transformation is concluded. The Ketchum is well-aware of Arceus’ secretiveness that for a moment, the forme-changing appears rather out-of-character for the Legend… 

“As you command, Lord Protector, so shall we obey.” 

“Forgive us. We mean no deception to you or yours.” 

In so saying, the twins finally shed their disguises in simultaneous bursts of electricity and fire. From the black-clothed one is arcs of electricity as blue as newly-cut sapphires, and from the other is tongues of flame as vibrantly red as coastal sunsets. Awestruck, Ash stumbles back blindly with his hands raised to guard his eyes whilst Arceus steps forward to shield him with a swiftly summoned ball of Protect. Their terrible timing aside, at least they understand the height with which Arceus treasures privacy and honesty in its dealings. 

“Zekrom!” Ash exclaims as the jet-black dragon coalesces out of their stormclouds, followed by their lighter-coloured twin. “And you too, Reshiram!” 

…of course, Ash makes little distinctions between greeting his human friends and other Legendary Creatures. 

“Arceus, why didn’t you tell me?” 

Arceus _almost_ lets out an undignified snort and equally undignified retaliation. It is not Arceus’ fault that Ash is rushing from one point to another faster than it can remark upon. 

_-Hence why I ask them to do away with their disguises,_ Arceus says and straightens itself to address the two fully revealed visitors. _-I welcome you both, Guardians of Truth and Ideals._

_-We are honoured, Lord Arceus; Young Master._

Arceus glances aside and, sure enough, a faint blush darkens the young man’s cheeks. He is so easily flustered when addressed with the honorific. Just as easily is how the sight plucks a melody of joy and pleasure at the Alpha’s heart-strings. 

“Oh. Oh… Um, so you guys know about me and Arceus…?” 

_-It is the reason why we are here,_ Zekrom replies; its voice is akin to the crunches of gravels under one’s feet. 

_-We come to pay tribute to the power that mended our wounds,_ Reshiram continues with its melodious, almost sing-song voice, _-…and to he who have united us._

Another telling jolt strikes in Arceus’ chest. Just like itself with the new history following Damos’ proven innocence, these Dragons have also suffered through their own fractured realities that require Palkia’s and Dialga’s interventions. Histories intermingled like a whirlpool; their spatial and temporal existences overlapped like insane and senseless mosaics. 

For the first time, Arceus wonders how much aware the Legends are of these aberrations. 

“Oh.” Something in that simple noise raises alarm in the Original One. It is the voice of a lost, confused child rather than a young man. “I mean, I guess…?” 

Another dread strikes through Arceus’ core. Knowing Ash’s confusingly adventurous childhood… how entangled Ash is in the turmoil of their pasts? Arceus fears for his sake for a human’s psyche are not meant to reconcile with such devastatingly clashing realities. 

_-Ash…_

“I know you guys. I… just… when? How?” 

_-I am of Truth,_ Reshiram whispers, _-and you are the soul with the courage to seek it._

_-I am of Ideals,_ continues Zekrom, _-and you are the soul with the strength to pursue it._

“W-what?” Leaving behind the safety between Arceus’ front legs, Ash approaches the Legendary Dragons standing tall in front of him. “But I thought… I remember Pikachu getting back his electricity from you, Zekrom… and you were with N, Reshiram…” 

_-Yes,_ they announce in unison. Arceus can see the sanity cracking from the wildness in Ash’s eyes. 

_-Ash, please do not exert yourself. It is expected that –_

“No, no, no… Arceus, you don’t understand. _I_ don’t understand any of this! I remember coming to Reshiram – or was it you, Zekrom? – and there was this… whole… mountain…!” 

_-Ash, stop –_

“It was the… the Sword of the Vale! I was teaming up with Resh – Zek – No, it was Reshiram, wasn’t it? Or Zekrom – I don’t – I can’t –” 

_-Ash Ketchum!_

Heedless of its Legendary visitors, Arceus collapses to its front knees and sweeps the young man into pressing against its chest with its head. A stream of golden aura uncoils from its flank-wheel to encompass the human’s body in Arceus’ desperate attempt to leech out the fear that is almost its own. Ash’s Aura, invisible to himself only, writhes with the restlessness of someone that simply cannot understand the clash between the heart and mind. 

Vaguely, Arceus senses the pikachu squeezing himself into Ash’s arms and struggling to pull his Trainer’s mind out of the chaotic whirlwind of memories. 

“Arceus, I…” The hurt in Ash’s voice is a cruel hook in Arceus’ chest. Its metal-laced forehead pushes insistently against his back, willing its warmth to soothe its mate as much as its Aura. “…I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening to me…” 

As one, the dragons who have kept themselves silent during Ash’s predicament, announce: _-The Dragon Force is a heavy burden._

_That_ garners Arceus’ immediate attention. Aura-bursting eyes lift up from Ash still tucked against its chest and towards the two Legendary creatures. 

_-…The Dragon Force. What of it?_

Arceus does not intend it but its Aura nevertheless bleeds into its mental voice, carving jagged edges in its words. Raw energy thrums through its flank-wheel, warming the golden metals with the sudden influx. 

_-It had spilled, corrupted, through the lands below the mountain. There were others who were with him but –_

_-‘CORRUPTED’?!_

The edges sharpen into dangerous points. Moreso than it being the energy of the world, the power of Dragon is one of the many which resides within Arceus as its life-sources. To imagine what was once the force which helped revitalize Michina in the form of Arceus’ Jewel of Life, tainted to become a force of destruction instead… 

Arceus’ title as the Lord Protector does not come by idly. 

And for good reasons too: The Dragon Force, just like other primeval energies that turn the world, is delicate in its balance. A slight misstep could have easily turned a fertile continent into a death land. If the bad comes to the worst, Palkia would be compelled to sever the place from the rest of the Earthly Realm so as to stop the spread of its corruption, forever separate as a Closed World or annihilated entirely as if it never has been. 

The rising anger is not unnoticed to the dragons. Flaring their wings and hissing defensively, their bluster is nevertheless evident as they retreat in the face of Arceus’ turbulent Aura despite the Legend itself is still kneeling protectively to surround the Ketchum. 

“…Arceus, wait.” Although his face is scowling with the pain to reconcile with fragmented memories, Ash still manages to pull on Arceus’ sleek fur for its attention. “They didn’t know. The Dragon Force became corrupted after they… went to slumber…after the war…” 

_-Your mate speaks the truth,_ Reshiram chimes in hurriedly, taking its chance as Arceus’ Aura subsides. _-We were blinded in our purposes, splintered from our pursuits. Our zealotries have brought nothing but regrets and futile sacrifices._

_-Neither truth nor ideals warrant the sufferings we have inadvertently caused,_ Zekrom follows the lead of its twin and dares itself to approach the Alpha. _-Your mate is the one who brought us to our senses._

A Legend’s temper is not easily assuaged once provoked – especially so for Arceus when it concerns the misuse of its power – but the genuine remorse from both of the dragons counterbalances the instinct for judgment in the fate they are instrumental of. There remains a lingering tension that the dragons are still wary of, though broken unexpectedly by Ash’s weak, if anxious laughter. 

All eyes are instantly upon him. 

“I still don’t understand, though. I remember that much… but there’s also N, somehow, and Team Plasma and Ghetsis… and Zekrom’s storm in Nuvema…” 

Pikachu chirps and wags his tail, as if to compound upon his Trainer’s conviction of these events. 

“…I guess that’s expected when you’re about to die in a sword-castle flying into space.” 

Zekrom and Reshiram rustle their wings apprehensively. Arceus does not know if it should be alarmed that this revelation, while horrifying, is not as unsuspected as it ought to be. 

_-Ash, pray tell – What were you trying to do getting yourself embroiled in corrupted Dragon Force?_

“Didn’t mean to. I was just trying to help a pokémon.” Ash closes his eyes and massages his scalp, as though doing physically stirs his memories. “Its name was Victini.” 

In fact, Arceus is loosely acquainted with Victini in a chance encounter by Driftveil coasts. It has been the days following Arceus’ modern return to Michina, wherein it has resolved to familiarize itself with this new world that came about with the modified timeline. Victini’s heart has been like a flame, singing with the joy of freedom so powerfully that it has attracted the Alpha to its location. 

It did not occur to Arceus then, that Ash would also be connected to it someway. Because _of course_ he would. 

A fractured picture is forming tentatively in Arceus’ mind for Victini has spoken of the awakening of Zekrom and Reshiram and the rejuvenation of the town where the Kingdom of the Vale once was. During its travels, Arceus also came to the knowledge of the War between the princes of said kingdom a thousand years ago. If this same war has compelled the conflicting dragons into deep sleep as Ash has just mentioned… can it be that their unresolved animosity became the corruptive influence to the Dragon Force? 

Such instance would be far from unfamiliar to Arceus who had once lived through its Damos-betrayed timeline; such terrible rage that was radiating during its hibernation, even its own Hall of Origin was incinerated well before Michina’s Judgment Day. No wonder the land which has been the Kingdom of the Vale needs Palkia and Dialga’s intervention, though clearly at the cost of mortal-comprehensible timeline. The fractal memories in Ash and the dragons are easily indicative of a damage that has come close to Palkia’s ultimatum. 

Arceus sincerely wishes that for others involved in the event, the relevant memories remain blissfully compatible with the rest of histories. Very few souls are equipped to handle living through fragmented realities outside of the Creation Dragons and Arceus itself. 

“Arceus… don’t be angry, please? I was alright and… I promised to free Victini. I had to do something. Zekrom or Resh… no, Zekrom _and_ Reshiram helped us all.” 

How quintessentially _Ash Ketchum_ for him to risk himself for others. When Ash tries to stand, Arceus helps nudge him back to his feet so that he can face the Legendary Dragons properly, and does the same itself afterwards. 

On the other hand, Reshiram and Zekrom appear astonished at the turn in their fortunes. 

How _curious_ – why should they be? Arceus may be agitated, even upset, but it is not harbouring the kind of wrath that only a violation of faith or a crime against nature would warrant. For something that is beyond their capacity to alter, it will be unfair to lay the blame and responsibility upon them… 

In the grand scheme of things, Zekrom and Reshiram are comparatively young compared to some of the primeval Legends. 

“You know what, I didn’t get to say thanks properly to you, Zekrom and Reshiram. If it weren’t for you guys, I won’t be here today.” 

_-And we are grateful to you,_ Zekrom returns. For the first time, there is a smile in its voice if not on its face. _-In the face of adversaries, your heart remains true to your dreams._

Reshiram hesitates. With wings draped to its sides, Reshiram appears as if prostrating – Arceus acknowledges that it is placing itself in a disarmed position as an offering of peace. It says, _-Ideals and truth must go hand in hand, never apart. We have been lost for so long… so desperate to find our places…_

The sincerity within is not lost on Arceus, who hears it in the confession and senses it as reflected in the ripples of Reshiram’s Aura. Zekrom’s too, in fact, even though it opts to stay quiet for its Blazing White brethren. Arceus wonders in its privacy but Ash is coming forward and looking straight into Reshiram’s eyes. There is no fear in either the Trainer or Pikachu when he reaches out for the Legend’s muzzle. 

“I’m sorry, Reshiram. I know that N has said this to you but… I hope you understand that we are _nothing_ like Ghetsis and his Team Plasma. Human and pokémon can live together and do better with each other.” 

_“Pika-chu!”_

“That’s right. Just look at us!” 

_-…I know. I remember. I…_

To everyone’s surprise, Arceus’s glimmering aura unravels to join Ash’s touch on the dragon’s snout. Zekrom lets loose the beginning of a hiss before it is swiftly held back with an aura to its torso. 

_-Your hearts have been wounded deeply, Reshiram and Zekrom. For the places you have lost and the trust that has been betrayed, you have wandered in search of your purposes._

_-Lord Protector –_

_-Let it be so. Mourn; and allow yourself to heal. It will not be easy… but so it goes for matters that are worth the devotion._

Arceus can feel Ash’s eyes upon itself as keenly as that from the twin dragons. The warmth of it prickles along the back of its neck that takes the Alpha a few moments to suppress. 

_-The same goes for you, Zekrom. The Hero you once cherished may have passed but his dream is immortal. You have not lost your heart – It still burns with the same determination now as it was then._

Into these words, Arceus suffuses its own Aura to soothe what it can in the Legends – for though their healing is their journey to undertake, the power of the Original One is to nurture first and foremost. Just like the Dragon Force whose nature is to rejuvenate rather than corrupt the land it touches upon. 

Indeed, their eyes are alight with renewed vigour once Arceus finishes the ritual. 

“Arceus is right,” Ash says, smiling proudly at the revitalized dragons. “The people of the Vale lived happily because of you. You can do it again, together.” 

Unexpectedly, Zekrom throws back its head and unleashes a deep-chested rumble that rattles the ground. Ash staggers with uncertainty at first before realizing that the Deep Black Dragon is simply… chuckling. 

_“Uhm –”_

_-Your vision is a commendable one, Young Master. Truly an ideal worth pursuing!_

_It is as if they are born anew,_ Arceus marvels silently at the splendour of their Auras. It ought not to be so shocking, for the dragons’ hearts have succumbed to stagnancy and discontent when they first appeared at the doorway last night. Arceus knows their pain; has lived through it with the passing of Damos just as the dragon twins having to outlive the heroes of their choosing. It is the price to pay when one decides to be associated with humans. Though mortal lives are woefully short, they burn so magnificently in what little time they have upon this world. 

Arceus has lived long enough to envy their flame and to learn the yearning for their connection. 

As for Ash… 

…there will never be a day gone by that Arceus doesn’t feel the sincerest gratitude for the gift of a bond with him. Every little touch, every quirk of his smile, every twinkle in his eyes – each is like a blessing that Arceus reminiscences with embarrassing regularity. Even now, seeing Ash’s camaraderie with the Legends is a cause of joy to Arceus. 

He is simply full of love and compassion, that he can’t _not_ share it with others – what is not to admire about that? 

As Arceus comes to from its reverie, the dragons are coming to an obvious conclusion to their encounter. To the Ketchum, they bid him a farewell and a joint blessing not granted to anyone who are not their vassals: A prayer of fortune, strength and wisdom. 

A song of mending, borne of wounded souls – just as Oración is the song to soothe the rage of broken hearts. 

To Arceus, they offer their reverence in the blossoming of their Auras. Ash’s eyes cannot see the electric blues of Zekrom writhing, or the flares of Reshiram’s flame-like colours but he shivers regardless, rubbing his arms where the hairs are standing on ends and suspecting for a moment for Pikachu’s static electricity causing the reaction. 

_-Go with blessing, Zekrom and Reshiram._

Their united roars accompany the twins’ departure: Hunching down for a moment, Reshiram takes to the air with a mighty flap of its wings whilst Zekrom kicks himself in a starting jump. At once, now safely away from the human, their respective abilities are activated – Reshiram’s Turboblaze and Zekrom’s Teravolt leave behind a helix trail of scarlet and azure like the burns of mighty engines, piercing right through the clouds overhead and out of Ash’s and Pikachu’s sight. 

_“Whoah.”_ On his shoulder, a similarly amazed Pikachu stares opened-mouth as the clouds spark with a lone burst of lightning, though the sky remains as storm-free as it has always been. 

_-May they find their peace in this renewed world,_ Arceus whispers to the sky, watching the twin shadows behind the clouds reorient themselves to the distant horizon. To Unova. 

“Huh?” Ash turns to ask but Arceus is already swivelling around to head inside, for their visitors are now out of bounds to its senses. “Hey, wait up.” 

Hastily, Ash follows after its footsteps – or rather, lack thereof since Arceus is levitating through its movements – and closes the door behind him, Pikachu trailing right beside him. Slipping between its pillar-like legs, all of which hover approximately at his chest-level, Ash grasps for one of its front hooves and tugs downwards, requesting Arceus to settle on the ground. 

Arceus does so without asking questions although there are many playing around in its mind. 

“Are you… alright, Arceus?” 

_-Yes, I am alright._ Arceus’ head tips to a side puzzledly. _-Is there something bothering you, Ash?_

“Me? You tell me, Arceus. I feel like you’re acting a bit… different?” 

_-‘Different’? Hmm… perhaps I am simply pondering about the fate of the dragons and their human Heroes and –_

Another requesting tugging, this time on its kneecap. Arceus is already firmly on the ground so what it can do to oblige him is to settle fully on the floor, right there in what passes for the living room in the barnhouse. Ash quickly wriggles himself into the space between its outstretched front legs and tucks himself snugly into the corner between its chest and fore-limb. His fingers search through Arceus’ fur for a tangible comfort. 

_-Ash?_

Ash is fidgeting through his inarticulacy – there seems to be an anxiety in his perceived helplessness in being unable to comfort his Legendary spouse. The sluggish flow of his Aura manifests this insecurity which Arceus simply does not share, for it is personally comforted as it is by his concern. True, there is some apparent parallels in its history with Damos and the dragon-twin’s bygone lives. It is also true that the memory of him is throwing Arceus into a momentary nostalgia but it does not speak against Ash’s character whatsoever. 

“I… I guess it’s nothing. I’m just happy that I’m here with you.” 

_-Likewise, my dearest._

More insensible scribbling into its fur; Arceus lets out a distinctive hum to let him know that it is pleasurable to it, even daring a press of its hidden mouth into Ash’s shoulder to convey a comforting kiss. The lull is peaceful and considerably lifts the Ketchum from his unease. Arceus is content to allow him as much time as needed to compose himself… which is marked by the return of his easy smile. 

_“Reeeally_ didn’t expect to start this day having two Legendary Pokémon knocking on our door. I was imagining – I don’t know – maybe a Trainer or two.” 

_-Honestly, I did try to inform you while you were having breakfast._

“…Guess it doesn’t matter now.” Ash looks up, meeting Arceus’ eyes in the process and beaming a teasing grin at it. “Never thought that Reshiram and Zekrom can get antsy like that. Reminds me a little of Kyurem around the Swords of Justice.” 

Now, Arceus has heard about the Swords of Justice but… _-Kyurem? You have met the Boundary Legend?_

“Yeah.” 

_-This was not in that battle in Dahara City, correct?_

“Nope, it was before that. Keldeo was running away from it because it lost a combat against it.” 

Arceus should not be surprised anymore when it comes to Ash’s exploits and yet, here they are. _-You have met Kyurem, came between itself and its chosen rival and survived._

“I just got lucky, I guess.” 

He really does – to an almost ridiculous extent, if Arceus may say so. It is also not a complaint or else it would not have said human sitting between its forelegs and playing his fingers into its fur right at this moment. 

_-And when you said that I remind you of Kyurem…?_

“It’s like, you have your own rules, boundaries, principles, all that jazz… and when that got broken you can be kinda scary.” 

Of all things Arceus fears for their relationship, it is that Ash should feel just that. Listening to the confession hurts profoundly that takes a sheer amount of willpower not to show – willpower that it cannot muster in time to prevent the reflexive wincing. However, Ash’s fingers in its fur speak of no fear, nor his expression, nor his Aural imprints. 

“…It makes me feel safe though. It’s kinda hard to explain but it’s like I can count on you to tell me when I screw up. And… I can just, you know, trust you.” 

_-…If you put it that way…_

A rather convoluted way to describe ‘trustworthy’ and maybe ‘dependable’, but there is no doubt in Ash’s sincerity. Arceus takes comfort in the fact as desperately as a man trapped in a well being offered a rope out of it. Perhaps it would be apt to return into its humanly disguise, considering the urge to return his embrace and thinking that it will be better properly done as humans do. But the moment it initiates the transformation, Ash lunges for its neck and hugs it very tightly, startling Arceus out of the process altogether. The golden light which usually accompanies its forme-changing is promptly re-absorbed into its abdominal ring. 

_-Ash, what –_

“Nothing wrong,” he replies quickly, tightening his arms around the neck. Arceus cannot see his expression when his face is pushed into the furred hide on its chest. “…Can you stay as you are? Like this?” 

_-I… Yes, of course. I will be glad to._

Ash’s relief is visible when Arceus adjusts its posture into a lazy, loose-legged sprawl – a minor adjustment that Ash recognizes as the Legend being in no hurry. 

“Kyurem’s not that bad, though. Scary? Yeah. But not as messy as the whole deal with Necrozma.” 

Arceus chokes through an uncannily disturbing sound (Ash would later describe it as the noises of pebbles grinding together). This is _Ash Ketchum_ that Arceus is bonded to; there is bound to be more. _Of course_ he just has to cross path with a fallen Blinding One… 

_-One day, Ash, I hope I am disclosed of your various adventuring since your youth. Rumours and third-party accounts can only tell so much._

Ash opens his mouth, ready to do just that. 

_-Not right now, please,_ Arceus interrupts hastily and stretches itself to rub its cheek against Ash’s face pleadingly for good measure. _-This morning has quite enough surprises for a day._

He smiles, then. A sweet, sweet smile reserved for Arceus’ eyes, tinted with that hint of the Ketchum’s familiar tease. “Will do. Anything for you, babe.” 

The lights in Arceus’ eyes flicker. Its mind lingers over those three words, again and again, becoming the looping distraction which Arceus sorely needs to occupy it for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _Author a/n:_  
>  **  
>  _This chapter is brought to you by how-does-BWcanon-works-in-the-movies-and-anime-series._


End file.
